


The Hero of Odessen

by The_Winter_Child



Series: The Battles We Fight [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Battle of Odessen, Knights of the Fallen Empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8243620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Winter_Child/pseuds/The_Winter_Child
Summary: Mirreah Sunfell, the Outlander and former Battlemaster of the Jedi Order, has to make the one choice that could either make or break her Alliance.





	

_I’m so sorry, Senya_.

Time slowed down for Mirreah Sunfell, the milliseconds grinding to a halt. Her arms reacted automatically when she’d been given the chance to end their duel, and she watched, horrified, as her hands swung the blue blade across Arcann’s chest, carving through his armour and the flesh beneath it. To her disbelief and relief, there was no wretched sound of skin and muscle being shredded, no sound of bones being pulverized, and no sound from vital organs being punctured.

There was only the familiar and steady hum of her lightsaber.

Her eyes snapped up to look at Arcann’s, and in slow motion, his expression morphed from one of fury into one of shock as his system processed the grievous injury he now bore. He crumpled, clutching at his wound with intense agony. He glanced at her briefly and they made eye contact once again, and the suffering she saw on the good half of his face made her stomach twist into knots.

_I didn’t mean to do this._

It wasn’t the first time she’d taken a life, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. It’d never gotten _easier_ , for a lack of a better word, but sometimes it was necessary.

But was killing Arcann necessary? Her Alliance members could easily engage in an hours-long heated argument debating this, but how was she going to tell Senya that she killed off her last son? She’d promised Senya in front of the Scions and her closest associates that she was sparing Arcann so that he could repent for his crimes. If she and Senya both made it back to Odessen, she’d be too ashamed to look the former Knight of Zakuul in the eye.

It made her sick, to have to kill her friend’s son, knowing that all she’d done was to continuously fracture and divide an already broken family. On the galactic scale, Arcann’s death meant that Vaylin ascended the throne, and that meant the galaxy was due for a shitshow on a whole new level.

She didn’t even know she’d been crying on Senya’s behalf until she felt something wet running down her cheeks. An explosion disrupted her balance and interrupted her thoughts. Something blew up beside Arcann, engulfing him in a blinding light. She stumbled to regain her bearings and her hands instinctively flew up to shield her head from the embers and fiery duracrete that showered down from the ceiling. Arcann stumbled in the opposite direction back up the steps, albeit with great difficulty. He held his pulverized chest like he was trying to keep his insides from falling out.

He continued hobbling backwards and almost got crushed by some durasteel that dropped from Force-knows-where. An explosion behind Mirreah starkly reminded her of the need to escape the battered flagship. The Force urgently tugged at her attention, and she somersaulted out of the way just in time to avoid being flattened by a mattress-sized sheet of durasteel.

Arcann somehow managed to reach the platform in his condition, and a new series of explosions went off in the bridge. The entire ceiling collapsed above the platform where Arcann stood, interring him under tons of wreckage. She felt herself growing increasingly dizzy, and not just from being tossed around by the swaying ship. The many explosions and resulting fires have consumed most of the much-needed oxygen, and if she wasn’t going to perish from being crushed like Arcann or being blown up from the turbolaser assault, she was definitely going to perish from suffocation.

She glanced at the pile of rubble that now entombed Arcann, which she was certain was a final mockery of him and Zakuulan funerary rites. To her amazement, he wasn’t dead; she felt that much through the Force, and she knew enough from their previous battle that he had a knack for surviving being trapped under tons of debris.

Mirreah turned and dashed into the exit corridor, relishing the temperature gradient that soothed her skin as it went from fiery to a cool breeze. She sprinted until her lungs burned from the effort, and she dodged pieces of scrap metal that occasionally came down from the ceiling every time the ship shuddered.

She dimly recalled the way back to the place she’d been dropped off at, but it wouldn’t make much sense to go back there. There weren’t any Alliance ships waiting to pick her up. She’d have to find a hangar, and hopefully she’d be lucky enough that there was an intact shuttle for her to pilot. And so she Force-sprinted, letting the Force guide her way while her thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Lana had told her long ago that she had to be the foundation that kept their fledgling Alliance grounded as trust had worn thinner than the finest of shimmersilk strands. She'd cultivated a decent track record so far in upholding her promises, but after today, she’d be known throughout her inner circle as a leader unable to keep her word. How was she going to maintain trust with a broken promise? Especially when it was such an important one, between such an important ally?

Yes, she’d been angry with Arcann. He was despicable; his crimes against humanity to the galaxy and even to his own dear Eternal Empire appalled her, but it had truly become personal when he stole five years of her life and killed those closest to her. He’d stabbed her, and she’d gotten even by slashing him across the chest.

 _Don’t think about it as getting even_. She shuddered as the memory of her lightsaber carving through him resurfaced. She shook her head, trying to banish the disturbing recollection from her brain. She hoped that Arcann had succumbed to his chest wound and didn’t have to suffer long, but she could still faintly sense his tortured Force aura as he stubbornly clung to life within the bowels of his flagship. She’d preferred to have him subdued and in Alliance custody until the Republic and the Empire could set up a trial, but their duel had driven her into a corner and had left her with few options. She’d never wanted to give him that fatal blow, not just because she’d given Senya her word that she’d spare her son, but because she wasn’t a cold-blooded killer.

Ruthlessness had never been a part of who she was, and even the brutality of war couldn’t take away her compassion.

Now, she wasn’t even sure how she felt about Arcann. She’d felt great pity for him when she realized that he’d grown up with Vitiate as a father, and knowing Vitiate, Arcann had been abused both physically and psychologically from the start. He too, was just one of the many people in the galaxy whose lives Vitiate had ruined in one way or another.

They’d both been victims, but he’d been through far worse than she had. While Vitiate had rummaged through her head and attempted to mentally destroy her, she’d been saved by her beloved Master. In contrast, Arcann had endured the unthinkable for over two decades, and even those who loved him couldn’t save him from his father. Her skin crawled as she thought of the Children of the Emperor, and that Arcann was literally just that – he was Valkorion’s son. Who knew what unspeakable horrors he’d endured growing up? Stars, he’d been fighting an uphill battle against Valkorion since the day he was born, and now because of her, he’d lost.

They could’ve been allies, and far fewer lives would’ve been lost fighting this petty war when they only shared one common enemy. She’d even told him so prior to their battle on the bridge. He’d survived being raised by this monster, and surely he knew a thing or two that could help her and the Alliance bring him down. What a shame that it had to turn out this way, with more innocents dead, and a galaxy once again plunged into an uncertain future.

A slight shift in the Force informed her that the hangar was just up ahead, and she rounded the corner so quickly that her boots almost lost traction with the floor.

Mirreah had never been so grateful to see a Zakuulan shuttle sitting on the docking pad. Apart from her rescue from Zakuul, all of the times she’d been inside Zakuulan spacecraft had been… unpleasant, and that was an understatement. Not including today, the last time she’d been on a Zakuulan ship, it had been timed to self-destruct and SCORPIO had scurried back to Zakuul to make herself comfortable on the Eternal Throne.

 _You can’t even call it a betrayal, because you’ve never trusted her at all_ , the voice inside her head offered unhelpfully. Mirreah had known at heart that SCORPIO’s disloyalty was a ‘sooner or later’ scenario, but she’d gambled anyways to glean as much usefulness from the droid for as long as she could. SCORPIO _had_ been beneficial, even integral to obtaining intelligence and assisting during some of their most daring missions. _You’ve been waiting to cast her aside, but you waited too long and now she’s gone to the enemy with extensive knowledge of the base and your operations_ , the voice inside her head continued.

Mirreah ignored the voice of reason, but it was comforting to know that the voice was _hers_ , and not Valkorion’s. He'd thankfully taken a vacation out of her head, and she hoped that it was a permanent one, although she knew that was too much to wish for.

The first time he’d possessed her, he’d been invasive, casually sifting through her mind and making her figuratively naked by exposing all of her secret hopes, dreams and fears. He’d tried tearing the fabric of her psyche to pieces as if he was trying to make confetti from it, and the damage would’ve been beyond repair if Master Din hadn’t been there to save her and patiently piece her shattered sanity back together.

But the damage she suffered at Vitiate’s hands would always be there. If Vitiate tearing up her mind was comparable to dropping a vase on the floor, what Master Din did was painstakingly glue the shattered pieces back together one at a time. Even if the vase had been restored, the break lines would still be clearly visible.

Even so, she’d been tremendously lucky to have escaped mentally intact. Mostly, anyways. She’d seen the other Jedi who’ve had their minds shredded by Vitiate, and those that had survived the ordeal now spent the rest of their days in a psychiatric facility , mentally too far gone to ever be themselves again, but not that far gone to pass on to the netherworld of the Force.

And now, Vitiate had done it again a second time, taking residence inside her head and darting in and out of her mind as he pleased as if it was some apartment complex with shitty security.

And this time, Master Din’s Force ghost couldn’t save her. She believed that he watched over her like a guardian spirit with every fibre of her being, but maybe he wanted this to be a battle she had to fight to prove to herself that she was more than capable of fighting Vitiate’s influence on her own.

There hadn’t been time to properly mourn her Master and accept his passing and journey into the netherworld of the Force. She didn’t remember her birth father and what having a father was like, but her Master had filled that void, and losing him made her hollow somewhere inside. She’d concentrated on serving those less fortunate in order to forget her own misery, but it hadn’t done much to fill that hole left by his death.

There hadn’t been time to properly mourn the countless deaths on Uphrades and Ziost either. Force-sensitives like her had it the worst; not only could she perceive the catastrophe in real-time using her five senses, but when it’d happened, she sensed the pain of each of the millions of lives that were snuffed out. Even though she wasn’t on Uphrades to physically face the flames herself, she might as well have been in the shoes of one of its victims. When it happened, she’d gotten goosebumps all over her body at hearing the cacophony of screams from people being burned alive all around her. She’d felt the flames licking at her skin, the skin cracking and blistering from the heat, followed by charring from the third degree burns as the flames continued consuming her. After the longest minutes from enduring the agony of being roasted alive, she’d felt no pain from drifting into death, but just for a split second. The Force itself had writhed in shock at the massive loss of life, and something inside of her had warped as well. Afterwards, there was an expanse of silence and nothing that seemed to blanket the ashes of Uphrades.

Ziost had been no different, even though the destruction of life hadn’t occurred the same way. She'd felt the coldness of the wintry world, but then there was just… a huge void. It was as if she’d been tossed into a black hole, torn apart and ceased to exist, only that that feeling had been multiplied millions of times. The cold had still been there, but its nature had changed. It wasn't the cold from the climate, but a coldness from the silence of lifelessness.

She hadn’t even had the time to grieve and learn to cope with all that had happened between being frozen in carbonite and from being rescued and forced to become the Alliance commander. There had always been too much work to get the Alliance set up and running, and she’d been involved with _everything_ , because it was expected of her as the Commander and because good leaders participated and didn’t simply order about their allies. She’d wanted to see a psychologist or somebody who had experience dealing with PTSD, but she didn’t dare for people to find out.

Lana would understand. _No_ , she corrected herself, _Lana did understand_. She could talk to Lana, who hid her own fears, insecurities and troubles behind the porcelain mask she wore. There were times between the two of them when Ziost loomed uncomfortably in the air waiting to be talked about, but neither one of them spoke up to discuss that catastrophe as neither one of them wanted to show just how vulnerable they were with the other.

They both had to be the pillars that upheld the Alliance they both put so much effort in to create and maintain. Both of them couldn’t be vulnerable and both of them couldn’t be unhappy. Especially not when everybody in the Alliance looked up to them.

And Mirreah knew she bore the brunt of that burden. The Alliance looked up to Lana, but they looked up to her the most. Stars forbid that the people in the Alliance saw her cry.

If Kira was here, at least she’d have someone to talk to who’d understand because her apprentice also shared her pain. They weren’t just linked through their Master-Padawan bond; they were also linked through being possessed by Vitiate. Her new allies were wonderful and lovely individuals, but they weren’t Kira.

 _Don’t think about this right now_ , the realist in her commanded. _You want justice for Uphrades and Ziost? Escape this flagship alive and fight Vitiate_. With a renewed fervour, Mirreah Force sprinted across a durasteel bridge.

It was slightly unnerving to see the shuttle oddly intact while the rest of the hangar crumbled around it. She didn’t sense any lifeforms on board or around the shuttle’s vicinity. _There could be Skytroopers or other droids on board_ , the voice in her head warned. However, she had no choice but to go aboard, with explosions going off left and right making her feel as if she was sprinting through a minefield. She wasn’t sure what kind of construction material was dropping from the deteriorating ceiling, but she knew that if she didn’t hop onto the shuttle soon and fly out of this hangar, she’d be crushed underneath rubble just like Arcann.

She jumped on board, lightsaber ignited. She hastily located and pressed the launch button before dashing off to ensure that there weren’t any dangers awaiting her inside the shuttle. _Just a kitchenette, refresher booth, and sleeping quarters; your standard spacecraft fare_ , she mused, although they were considerably more opulent than what the Republic and Empire offered. Mirreah almost rolled her eyes. _I guess you can afford to be rich and fancy even on your regular ships when you’ve been pilfering from the entire galaxy to fill your coffers_.

She plopped down into the pilot’s chair and pressed the same button she pressed before, relishing the comfort of the cushioning on her back and bottom. If she didn’t have more pressing concerns, she probably would’ve fallen asleep in this chair. The ship rocked to life and Mirreah set it to autopilot. While the shuttle smoothly glided out of the hangar through the magnetic shields, she concentrated on slicing into her own comms.

Slicing into her own comms was surprisingly easy. She wasn’t an expert slicer, but if she could do it, how many times had Zakuulan intelligence done it? _Great. Just one more security issue to talk to the technicians about when I get back, and they’re still working on countering_ _SCORPIO’s_ _ability to hijack our comms straight from the Eternal Throne._

She tried speaking, but her throat itched and her voice sounded hoarse from the ash she‘d inhaled during her escape. She cleared her throat. “I’m clear. Theron, prepare the omnicannon. Lana, status update,” she commanded.

Lana’s voice was refreshing to hear, like the sound of rain after a long drought. “We’re on our way to the Gravestone. We waited for Senya as long as we could…”

“I’m alive… but I won’t be joining you,” Senya replied regretfully.

Mirreah’s heart dropped and she suppressed the urge to bury her face in her hands. She’d hoped to have everybody who joined her in the flagship make it out safely. She’d lost too many comrades over the years, and she didn’t want to lose the ones she had now and had become friends with.

The flagship hadn’t blown up yet, surprisingly, so she still had precious time to turn her shuttle around and rescue Senya.

 _I have to try. No man or woman left behind_. “What do you mean? Where are you?”

“I’m in Arcann’s personal shuttle. He’s with me.”

Instead of fighting the guilt, Mirreah now fought the fury that curled in her chest. She stuffed it into an emotional vacuum so that she could remain in control. While Mirreah had a certain degree of trust in all of the members of her Alliance, it still stung to confirm that Senya didn’t trust her.

She wasn’t offering to fix up ailing sun generators when she’d been dying, helping Zakuulan refugees or forbidding Kaliyo from sacking the Spire just so she could curry favour with Koth, Senya, and the Zakuulan populace. She hadn’t done it for the Jedi Code either; she did those things because she felt that they’d been the right things to do. How her choices affected her reputation amongst the masses was secondary to her, and it hadn’t crossed her mind when she’d made them. She’d announced to her crew, to the Scions, and to Senya that she wanted justice and not death for Arcann and Vaylin, even though she detested the now-former Emperor. Didn’t she already demonstrate through her choices and actions that she only wanted the best for Zakuul, even for those that had done wrong by her?

Senya had always been an unfaltering ally, well, most of the time anyways. There had been signs that made Mirreah keep a watchful eye over the former Knight of Zakuul. Senya had disabled HK and wouldn’t come clean about her allies just to coerce her into meeting them back on Asylum, and had nearly cracked her head open by Force tossing her into a wall. The roiling headache along with the lingering carbonite sickness was probably what got her impaled during her first battle with Arcann. Senya had withheld important information from the Alliance, such as her relationship with the royal family and information on the Gilded Star.

And whenever Senya talked big about bringing her children to justice, Mirreah always knew that she wouldn’t kill her own children. While Mirreah wasn’t a mother herself and probably would never be, she understood enough about families and parenting that if given a choice, parents would rather kill themselves than their children.

Valkorion didn’t count, because what he did to Thexan, Arcann and Vaylin wasn’t parenting.

“Do not betray me, Senya,” Mirreah warned, allowing a bit of her own stormy temper to show through her normally bright and peaceful disposition before suppressing those feelings again. She wanted Senya to know and understand that she wasn’t a doormat to be walked on, and just because she was a highly-ranked Jedi didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to be angry. It was highly discouraged, but wasn’t expressively forbidden. She’d been told by many that she wasn’t somebody people would like to make furious, mostly because they’ve never seen her calm demeanor morph into something else, but also because she herself had never snapped from rage, so even she didn’t know how fearsome she could be if someone pushed her over the edge.

“That was never my intention, but I must do right by my family,” Senya stated adamantly.

Mirreah didn’t need to see Senya’s face to know how stubborn she could be. It was one of Senya’s redeeming points, really, to have suffered so much as a mother and still have the willpower to keep fighting. But stubbornness whilst committing a betrayal… that she couldn’t allow. 

There was a pause, and Mirreah heard muffled footsteps through the comms. She wasn’t sure if they belonged to Senya or to her other associates.

“He saved my life. He can be redeemed. Let me help Arcann be the man he was supposed to be,” Senya begged.

Mirreah heard a pneumatic hiss and the muffled sounds of Senya’s shuttle in the process of liftoff.

“No! I won’t let you do this!” Koth protested vehemently. Mirreah opened her mouth, prepared to tell Koth through the comms to be quiet, but thought better of it.

“I’m taking him,” Senya reiterated quietly. Mirreah turned her shuttle around, facing the dying flagship. Through the vast distance, she saw a tiny pinprick of blue leave the hangar.

She urged the controls to catch up with Senya, who for some reason, slowed down. Mirreah narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t fathom why and moved her thumbs over to rest over the firing buttons. One squeeze of her thumbs and the shuttle in front of her was going down in flames. _Why not just jump into hyperspace so that I have a harder time finding you? You’re in my sights and I can shoot you down easily at this distance. You know that I won’t miss._

“She’s in your firing range, Commander. Shoot them down!” Koth commanded. Mirreah’s grip tightened over the controls.

“You’ll kill them both,” Theron warned.

“Senya, what are you doing?” Lana asked, trying to reason with the renegade Knight.

“Saving my son,” Senya answered confidently.

_Can you people just be quiet for one moment so I can think?_

On one hand, she should shoot Senya down for insubordination to set an example. If she didn’t, how long would it take before other members of her Alliance started following Senya’s example? In all military ranks, regardless of faction, traitors were executed. Both the Republic and Empire did it, sometimes even skipping the court-martial. The Eternal Empire executed traitors and those that didn't perform up to expectations. Mirreah had learned from Novo that Tanek had been killed by Vaylin just because she escaped, and Tanek had fought bravely even after his friend had bailed. Koth and his crew would’ve been killed too, but they were extremely fortunate to have been able to evade Senya after deserting their posts on Denon.

And then there was Arcann, a dictator who murdered his way through Republic and Sith space twice, killing enough to empty many planetary systems. He’d ordered his own Knights and soldiers to kill unarmed men, women and children of conquered worlds, just to set an atmosphere of fear, but he’d also done it to break the wills of others who might’ve been thinking of rebelling. He’d enslaved worlds with his Star Fortresses, which Mirreah had been taking down whenever Theron informed her of a new one orbiting a planet. Arcann had annihilated five worlds just because he couldn’t find her, and the thought of whole populations gone up in flames reminded her of Uphrades.

Even at home on Zakuul he’d become corrupt, halving his ranks by having his Knights fight to the death in a fit of anger and leaving Vaylin to commit her own atrocities. He’d defeated her in their first duel, and she’d just defeated him in their second, but just because she did so once didn’t mean that she’d beat the evil out of him.

She wasn’t Valkorion, and she wanted him gone just as much as Arcann did. And he’d hated his father so much, not that she could blame him, but the hate had warped him to the point of irrationality that he saw her as his father’s extension instead of her own person.

Could Arcann actually be redeemed? Mirreah had always thought that redemption was possible for everyone, and she’d seen firsthand several times of former foes coming around, but after her encounter with Vitiate, she knew that redemption wasn’t possible for all. However, Arcann wasn’t Vitiate. He’d been Vitiate’s victim, his plaything to toy with, since the day he was born. If she thought about him finding justice for himself to make peace with his past, there was a slim hope that he could come around and be a future ally in fighting Vitiate if she let him and his mother go.

But could Senya actually redeem her son? Senya had been fighting all this time just for the chance to do right by her children. The woman was persistent, had a good heart and could’ve been a swell mother if Valkorion hadn’t been around to abuse her. If she can actually repair the broken mess that was the royal family starting with her son, then Mirreah was willing to give her a chance. The problem was, even for her hardheadedness and nurturing nature, there was no guarantee that Senya could pull it off, and if she didn’t, would Arcann return to attack her and her Alliance as revenge for dethroning and dishonouring him?

 _No_ , she shook her head _. He dishonoured himself. If I let him go and he comes back to attack the Alliance, I’ll kill him_.

And what if Senya and Arcann both decided to be thorns in her sides later on? Senya had been a vital part of her inner circle and had extensive knowledge of Alliance plans and secrets. _If you let them go and Senya and Arcann decide to fight against you later, you and the Alliance are strong enough to defeat them both, but many lives will be lost._

_You’ve always known that she’d choose her son. If you shoot them down, you’d be losing two people who know more about Vitiate than you, and stars forbid that they’ll leave in hostility if you miss your shots and come back later to cause trouble when you least expect it. If you let them go in peace, best-case scenario would be that they’ll return later on neutral terms to fight Vitiate._

Despite the negative feelings deep down, Mirreah knew that she wasn’t going to shoot down her friend, even if she’d gone traitor. She wasn’t going to shoot down a mother who was finally about to reconcile with her estranged son, especially if that mother had waited for more than two decades.

Mirreah gripped the controls so hard that it was a wonder they didn’t shatter. Her thumbs rested on the firing buttons, but she couldn’t find what was necessary within herself to squeeze them.

“I won’t shoot an unarmed ship. Arcann’s no longer a threat,” Mirreah declared to her crew. Her voice softened, and she added, “I’m trusting you, Senya.”

A large part of her still doubted whether or not Senya could actually redeem her son, but she’d taken worse gambles before. She could only hope that Senya had the ability to help Arcann become a changed man and give him a fresh start.

She could almost hear the breath of relief on the other end. “Thank you, Commander. Your mercy will be remembered,” Senya gratefully answered before cutting the comms. Mirreah watched the shuttle jump into hyperspace, thoughts still teetering on whether or not she made the right choice.

“No! No! We let them get away!” Koth shouted so loudly that she winced.

“Forget about them! Scorpio still wants us dead,” Lana reminded him. “Focus on the fleet!”

Mirreah felt fear swirling at the bottom of her stomach. The Eternal Fleet cast a darkened diamond shape over the beautiful orange and scarlet nebulae behind it, and blue lightning forked from one vessel to the next until the entire unit crackled and glowed with electricity.

 _That looks bad_. She turned her shuttle around and urged the throttle to the maximum, forcing the ship to fly at its top speed.

“The omnicannon’s ready to fire on your command,” Theron informed her exhaustedly.

Mirreah didn’t hesitate. “Do it.”

The omnicannon blast hit Arcann’s debilitated flagship and spread like webbing across the Eternal Fleet. One by one the vessels exploded, and Arcann’s flagship finally blew up with them after suffering ridiculous amounts of damage.

The omnicannon blast merged with the electrical phenomena she observed spreading through the Fleet, creating a deadly spherical storm of energy that grew outwards.

Mirreah’s eyes widened as she felt the collective shock and fear from her comrades. She, Lana and Theron all made sharp turns to avoid the blinding light that grew closer and angrier with every millisecond that passed. She pushed her shuttle to the limits, being thankful that the superior Zakuulan technology could help her outrun the omnicannon blast. Hopefully. It would be a shame if she survived the duel with Arcann and escaped the flagship intact only for her to die because the Gravestone was too powerful.

Theron was yelling hyperspace coordinates over the comms, and her fingers shook as she fought the panic in order to input the correct coordinates. She hoped that her shuttle could make the hyperspace jump in time along with Lana’s and the Gravestone. The white light from the blast lit up her dashboard from behind, and she gritted her teeth. _Well, here goes nothing_ , she thought as she pulled the lever as far down as she could.

The white engulfed the insides of her shuttle, but she managed to see the streaks of stars as her shuttle successfully made the jump into hyperspace.

Her shuttle dropped out of hyperspace as quickly as she’d entered it, and Mirreah looked up through the transparisteel sunroof and breathed a sigh of relief at the shape of the Gravestone half shrouded with the darkness of some nebula, not realizing that she’d been holding her breath the entire time. “That was a little close, Theron,” she exclaimed incredulously.

“I still see both your shuttles flying out there. And zero enemies shooting at you. Maybe a little thanks is in order?” Theron retorted.

Mirreah opened her mouth to thank Theron, but was rudely interrupted.

“But Arcann and Senya got away! They’re still alive out there. Am I the only one who realizes how bad that is?” Koth protested angrily.

And then there was the beautiful voice of reason that was Lana. “How about we hold this bickering until we’re all back on Odessen? It’s been a very trying day.”

That she could agree with. That was something _everybody_ should be agreeing with. And before the arguing started once they returned to base, she could use a long shower.

* * *

Teeseven chirped happily alongside Mirreah as she walked into the war room.

“Congratulations, Commander. It appears you’ve once again done the impossible,” Lana praised.

Mirreah smiled and nodded at her friend. _I wouldn’t have done it on my own without you all_.

“We prepared for the worst, but there was no need,” Torian added in relief.

“Those are some fireworks we made out there. I’m almost sad I stayed behind,” Kaliyo commented.

Koth just glared at Mirreah before shaking his head and walking away. She was about to walk after him to have a much-needed chat about what happened up there, but she was stopped by Lana.

“Koth just needs time,” Lana gently reminded her.

“It wasn’t an easy decision – letting Arcann go. But I stand by it,” Mirreah quietly told her, hoping that her voice was steady enough to hide the tendrils of doubt that had been growing steadily in her heart since Senya had jumped into hyperspace with her son.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about what his escape meant for us,” Lana frankly told her.

 _I’m worried too, Lana_. _And thank you for your honesty_.

“Doubt we’ve seen the last of him,” Theron muttered.

“We’ve more pressing concerns,” Lana informed her. “SCORPIO’s proven to be more cunning than I imagined.”

Mirreah rolled her eyes. “Let me guess: vacation time is out of the question?” _Please don’t let my shower time be out of the question too_.

“I’m afraid so,” Lana affirmed. “But don’t let that undercut what you’ve achieved today.”

Mirreah wasn’t about to go fighting with the others for the refreshers to take that much-needed shower. Not yet, anyways. After dismissing her associates for the night, she headed into the networking area of the base, looking for Trace. Most of the tech crew were still up due to the battle that had just occurred over Odessen, and she felt ill knowing that she’d have to make them stay up a bit longer.

Trace was a Twi’lek slicer who’d been born into slavery. He’d been good at thieving while he’d been a slave, and it wasn’t long before a smuggling crew bought him his freedom for his talents. Eventually they taught him how to slice and hack into every system and network the galaxy had to offer. He and his smuggling crew had toyed with and had been successful at slicing through Eternal Empire comms and systems and whatnot, but their luck had eventually run out and most of them had been killed in a skirmish with the Knights. Trace and the remainder of his crew that managed to escape fled to Asylum, but that remainder had died after getting themselves unintentionally embroiled in the petty turf wars of the criminals that lived there. Mirreah’s new Alliance had picked him up as a refugee just after the Battle of Asylum. She hadn’t been aware that her crew had picked up several new guests until she recovered enough from her stab wound.

Afterwards, Trace had made himself a valued member of the group of technicians the Alliance had acquired over time, and he'd proved himself countless times that he'd been worth picking up on Asylum.

“Miss Sunfell, that was some crazy battling you did up there,” Trace congratulated her.

“Thanks, Trace,” she said softly. It didn’t feel like a victory. “As much as I want you and the tech crew to get some rest tonight, I need you guys to change the codes and encryption for the shield generator, all of the spacecraft, all of the doors, everything. If you can make the encryption even more complex, please do so. I just figured during the battle that you can easily slice into our comms using Eternal Empire shuttles. Senya did so too.”

Trace’s eyes widened as he absorbed the immensity of the request – and the current problems. “I’ll do so at once. We’re still working on finding a way to prevent SCORPIO from slicing into our network through the Eternal Throne.”

Mirreah nodded. “Keep working on that, but change the codes and encryption first, and send them to the current Alliance members.”

“Yes ma’am,” he grinned at her.

“I’ll let you and the crew sleep in tomorrow,” she promised. “After that battle, I’m sure everybody will be sleeping in tomorrow.”

“Anything else?” he wondered.

“Actually, yes there is, and this one might be a challenge, but it’s second on the list.”

Trace drummed his fingertips together and a mischievous look crossed his features. He looked like a child that was just about to be told a juicy secret. “Spill it. You know I just _love_ challenges.”

How should she start explaining this? “Arcann’s flagship is now stardust, and he and Senya escaped into Wild Space using one of the shuttles from the hangars. Is it possible to slice into Arcann’s shuttle to see where they’re headed without them knowing? I just want to track them for now.”

The muscles on Trace’s brow ridge furrowed and his lekku twitched. “Hmm…that would be a challenge," he finally said after a long pause. "But did you talk to Senya through the comms?”

“Yes.”

Trace’s face lit up by a thousand watts. “Goddess, that makes my job so much easier! Is your shuttle still here?”

Mirreah nodded. “She talked through the open comm shared by the Gravestone, Lana’s shuttle, and mine.”

“Even better. I’ll get back to you once it’s done.”

“Thanks, Trace,” Mirreah said gratefully. She turned to address the rest of the tech crew. “Again, my apologies for having everybody stay up.”

Now, time for that much-needed shower.

* * *

The pneumatic hiss of her bedroom door sliding open and Teeseven chirping jarred Mirreah from her restless slumber. She tumbled out of bed, lightsaber in hand, the blade ignited. Teeseven squealed in alarm at the foot of her bed.

“The blue eerily lit up the room before she saw Lana’s silhouette. She didn’t extinguish her blade until Lana started speaking.

“Sorry for disturbing you, Commander, but you need to come to the landing platform,” Lana apologized.

“Did we get attacked?” Mirreah worriedly asked, head turning wildly from left to right. The adrenaline coursed through her veins like liquid fire, making her head swim and her skin burn.

Lana shook her head. “No, people want to join our cause, and we should go greet them together.”

Mirreah stumbled to the refresher, ignoring the muscle aches she’d accumulated the day before. She’d healed the obvious wounds yesterday while showering, but some injuries took their sweet time to appear. She’d have to meditate later to fix the rest. She quickly went through her morning ritual and threw on the cleanest set of robes she could find. The set she used yesterday had holes that burnt through to the skin in places, but she didn’t find out until she stripped to shower last night.

She met Lana and Theron on the edge of the landing platform. She wasn’t sure what time it was, and the sky was still dark. Had they stayed up all night?

Specks of lights grew brighter and closer, and she recognized Republic and Imperial ships of various models slowing down and preparing to land.

“Your victory brought hope back to the galaxy. The Battle of Odessen has become a rallying cry for all who oppose the Eternal Empire,” Lana told her.

As the crew of each ship disembarked, Mirreah greeted them warmly and thanked them for making the journey to fight with them. Every time a new vessel touched down, she'd search for familiar faces while greeting the crew. She searched for Kira, for Doc, for Rusk…and even for Scourge. Even though she and Scourge had never really gotten along, he had extensive knowledge of Vitiate and would know how to get rid of him.

She froze. If Scourge came here, he’d kill her in an instant just to kill Vitiate. But then Vitiate would just find another body to hop into. Who in the Alliance would be his next host?

“Commander, are you alright?” Lana asked, concerned.

“Yeah, you just paled all of a sudden,” Theron said.

Mirreah nodded. “Something unwelcome just popped up in my mind.”

Theron looked back up at the sky, and Lana stared at her for a long second, gauging her features to determine if she'd been telling the truth. But Lana wasn’t one to prod, so she didn’t press for further details. She turned her head to look at sky, now lit up with the lights from dozens of ships.

Mirreah decided it would be best to be honest with Lana. “I thought of Scourge, that he could be a valuable ally as he was the former Wrath.”

Lana looked at her, her expression unreadable. Mirreah continued, “And then I realized that the moment he’d step off his ship, he’d kill me in a heartbeat because it was a chance to kill Vitiate. And Vitiate would just possess someone else on Odessen.”

“If he comes here, or if we meet him in the future, we won’t let that happen,” Lana promised.

Hours passed, and the light of dawn spilled through the clouds, bathing the tops of the trees with a warm yellow light. “Word is spreading fast. Ever since the battle, Republic and Imperial forces have come pouring in to join our cause,” Theron said.

They _were_ timely, Mirreah had to give them that. She’d probably been on base for only a few hours before being woken up by Lana.

“If SCORPIO – or anyone else – tries to attack Odessen again, we will be ready,” Lana assured her.

Mirreah turned to her. “Once we’re through with SCORPIO, we’ll make her into the new Alliance microwave.”

Lana often didn’t smile, but Mirreah was rewarded with a slight upwards twitch at the corners of Lana’s mouth which then curled up into a full grin. “We will.”

A shimmering behind Theron and Lana caught her eye, and it formed into the shape of a man. A man she never wanted to see again. _And I was hoping that he’d found somewhere sunny and stayed there_.

“You are ready,” Valkorion announced.

 

 


End file.
